


Same Old Song

by BerryBagel



Series: Endgame Fix-It Fics [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, F/M, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryBagel/pseuds/BerryBagel
Summary: Divergent timelines aren't actually a problem, so long as they change in good ways.  Steve really lets loose with the time travel.  Bucky and Sam try to piece together what's going on.(I love canon compliant time travel shenanigans.)





	Same Old Song

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR ENDGAME SPOILERS IN THIS FIC!
> 
> Title from Fall Out Boy's "The (Shipped) Gold Standard," which I listened to while writing this!

Hanging out in the woods with the time machinery is all well and good, but it’s getting late.  Elderly people go to sleep early, right? Does that count for Steve Rogers? Bucky watches Steve show Sam another trick throw with the shield.  Steve doesn’t _look_ particularly tired, for a guy who’s aged seventy years in ten seconds.

 

Sam backhands the shield into a tree.  Everyone ducks as a spray of wood chips go flying.  Steve assures Sam that curved throws are unintuitive, because the shield is slightly dome-shaped.  That’s definitely a lie meant to make Sam feel better about missing his target by thirty feet. Sam is pretty clearly not focusing on the task at hand.  Sam still seems a little preoccupied.

 

It’s been a week since the snap was undone.  Waking up in a field an hour before getting dropped into interdimensional battle was confusing, for sure.  Probably not Bucky’s worst Thursday ever, but definitely in the running.

 

Adrenaline got them through the fighting just fine.  Now the pressing mortal peril is gone, and everyone is feeling the time-travel-resurrection version of jet lag.  Except for Steve, who’s not letting his senior citizen status stop him from being his naturally over-caffeinated self.  Some things never change.

 

* * *

 

While everyone was snapped, one of Sam’s family members had the foresight to board up all the windows on his house.  It got looted anyways, but the windows are in good condition! A family of rats settled in to Sam’s kitchen after the snap.  Now that the snap has been undone, there are twice as many rats living in Sam’s kitchen. In the commotion of everyone suddenly being alive again, exterminators aren’t currently running business hours.  Sam is staying with Bucky and Steve while looking for homeopathic ways to get ten million rats out of his walls.

 

According to Steve, it had hurt too much to stay in Wakanda while Bucky was dead.  Steve had rented a place in upstate New York, near the Avengers compound. Now it’s just near the crater that was previously the Avengers compound.  The property value is probably going to plummet. No rats, though.

 

Bucky doesn’t care much for Steve’s new place.  Obviously nothing is ever gonna be as nice as Wakanda, but the rental condo is uniquely depressing.  Steve had lived here for five years, personally blaming himself for his closest friends dying, and it shows.  There’s no wall decorations. There’s no carpeting. There’s no washing machine. The only food in the cabinets and fridge were sandwich ingredients.

 

Bucky had been hoping they’d be able to go back to Wakanda once things calmed down.  Steve had seemed generally receptive to the idea. Bucky’s not sure if Steve’s seven-decade detour through time will have changed his opinion on the matter.

 

Shuri sent Bucky a text yesterday.  Okoye had watched out for his goat herd while he was busy being vaporized.  That was thoughtful of her. Bucky had never really gotten the impression Okoye liked him.  She _did_ like the goats, he supposes.  They’re good goats. Very friendly.  He wonders if Steve will remember the goats.  Hell, the goats might not even recognize Steve anymore.  That’d be a shame.

 

Sam carefully leans the shield under the coat rack next to the door.  He looks at it uncertainly. For most of last week, Thor’s hammer had been hanging from the coat rack.  It seemed like an absurdly cavalier way of storing a magical space artifact, but it’s not like anyone was going to steal it.  Now the hammer is back in the past with Thor again, hopefully. If it isn’t, Steve hasn’t mentioned where he dropped it off.

 

The condo has one master bedroom and one guest bedroom, and what’s the play _there_ , exactly?  When your boyfriend fucks off to an alternate timeline and comes back a verifiable centenarian, do you stop sleeping with him?  Maybe Bucky should just take the couch. Or make Sam scoot over in the guest room.

 

On the other hand, it’s still Steve, and he doesn’t look _bad_ for his age.  Bucky could probably adjust to this, given some time.  Goddamn if Steve doesn’t look sorta like Joe Biden in his old age, though.  Sam had pulled up a photo during the car ride back here, so they could have a side-by-side comparison.  Bucky wishes Sam hadn’t made that comparison. Now he’s never gonna be able to unsee it. Bucky doesn’t want to fuck Joe Biden.  Really, he doesn’t.

 

This is what Bucky gets for making to many sugar daddy jokes about Steve.  Time to put his money where his mouth is. He’s just gotta suck it up. Steve would’ve stuck with him, if Bucky was the one who suddenly doubled in age.  Not that such a situation ever would have come up organically, because Bucky doesn’t screw around with time travel. Still. Elderly geezer Steve is better than no Steve.

 

Steve turns to see Bucky staring at him, and smiles vaguely.  God, Bucky wonders, what if Steve isn’t even interested anymore?  Steve might be loyal to the Bucky and Peggy of the other timeline, having presumably just spent the majority of his life with them.  What then? It’ll be sorta sad if their relationship suddenly takes a turn for the platonic. Sorta sad, but probably the least weird of all possible outcomes.

 

Sam walks into the kitchen.  There’s a loud crashing noise, and a yelped exclamation of surprise.  Bucky flings himself into action. Skinny jeans mean no thigh holster, but Bucky always has the hunting knife strapped to the small of his back.  He lunges into the kitchen to see Sam, the pasta pot Sam had thrown across the kitchen in surprise, and Steve. Not the old Steve Bucky was just sitting next to in the living room.  Normal Steve, complete with the time travel suit.

 

Sam makes an _I’m getting a headache_ noise.

 

* * *

 

Sam, Bucky, and the two Steves all stand in the living room.  There’s only one couch in the living room because, again, Steve was really feeling the Spartan lifestyle in the snap aftermath.  It’s not a particularly comfortable couch. The material is sort of scratchy.

 

“Maybe he’s Loki?” Sam says, looking at the Steves.  “Loki can shapeshift, right?”

 

“Which one?” Bucky asks.

 

“Either one.  I don’t know.” Sam says.

 

“Would Loki have tried to kill us by now?” Bucky asks.

 

“I don’t know.  Probably.” Sam says.

 

The Steves don’t look phased by this development.  They’re grinning broadly at each other.

 

“This mean everything worked?” Normal Steve asks Old Steve.

 

Old Steve nods with self satisfaction.  “Better than you can imagine.”

 

“Imagine _what_?” Sam asks.

 

The Steves exchange a look.

 

“Can we tell them?” Normal Steve asks.

 

“If you don’t, I will.” Old Steve says.  “You remember it all better, I suppose.”

 

* * *

 

_“So I went to put back all the infinity stones.” Steve explains.  “That was just earlier today when I left, right?”_

 

_“Right.” Bucky says._

 

_“And you were convinced I was going to stay in the past, but I said no, ‘end of the line’, all that, you remember?” Steve prompts._

 

_“Right.” Bucky repeats._

 

_“Well, first of all, I did go back to the 1940’s.”_

 

* * *

 

Steve sits in a hospital room in 1946.  He hasn’t technically been given permission to come in here, but security in the 1940’s is laughable.

 

All of the infinity stones have been returned.  Well, all except for the soul stone, because like hell is he about to hand it over to Red Skull, spectral guardian or otherwise.  As long as it’s back in the right timeline, he figures it doesn’t have to be in the exact same place. This timeline is going to have some serious deviations, anyways.  He’s already handed off the list of ‘probably avoidable future disasters’ to Peggy.

 

But more personally important, this timeline’s Bucky Barnes is _not_ going to be the winter soldier.  It’d taken a few high-risk raids on well-hidden Hydra bunkers, but Steve found him.  He’d been in cryosleep. No metal arm, so Zola and his team hadn’t started their workshop of horrors yet.

 

By comparison, it’d been easy to find this timeline’s Steve Rogers.  Steve knew exactly where in the Arctic circle he’d smashed that plane.  Peggy had come with him to watch as one of Howard’s contraptions dragged a _very_ frozen Captain America out of the wreckage.  Capsicle, indeed.

 

“And this is survivable?” Peggy had asked him, when Steve described the icy state of suspended animation.

 

“Stick me in the microwave for a few minutes, I’m good to go.” Steve assured her.  Peggy had looked at him with confusion. She’ll appreciate that joke someday. Or maybe not.  Probably wouldn’t have gotten a big laugh even if microwaves _had_ already been invented.

 

Peggy is sitting next to Steve now, as they wait for this timeline’s Steve and Bucky to defrost.  Doctors have been running in and out of the room all day, making awestruck commentary on the accelerated healing factor.  No one has taken any real notice of their time-traveling visitor, or if they have, have apparently brushed him off as Captain America’s identical-looking brother.

 

Peggy keeps glancing between the Steve next to her, and the hypothermic unconscious Steve on the cot in front of her.  She’s got a vice grip on his arm, like he might disappear if she looks away for too long. She’s still all steely confidence when the nurses come in to take readings and change IV bags.

 

She would’ve liked Nat, he thinks.  If things had been different, he would’ve liked to tell her stories about Nat.  But he can’t, right now. Right now, he needs to sit in the perfect bubble of this hospital room, where everyone is saved before it’s too late, and everyone gets to continue on to their happily-ever-afters.

 

This timeline’s Steve stirs on his cot.  Steve should probably make himself scarce when the lucky bastard wakes up.  The poor guy’s gonna feel like a reheated freezer burrito, he probably deserves some alone time with Peggy.

 

_In the future, you married someone else._  He’d told Peggy the night before, in the name of transparency.  He was feeling guilty. They had been in Peggy’s bed at the time, because he wasn’t feeling _that_ guilty.

 

_And I’m sure in the future I was very happy_ . Peggy had said, snuggling in closer.   _But if you think I’m going to wait around for him while you and Barnes have all the fun, you're crazy.  
_

 

Couldn’t argue with airtight logic like that.

 

* * *

 

Watching the Steve, Peggy, and Bucky of this timeline together is an unsettling experience for Steve.  It’s like watching a Hallmark movie adaptation of his own life, written by someone who wasn’t overly concerned with getting the facts right.  Peggy arrives home from work, and Steve sees himself kiss her in the foyer. _That never happened_ , he can’t help thinking.  They all go out to lunch, and Bucky takes the chair with his back to the room.   _You would never do that_ , Steve almost corrects him.

 

But this _is_ what happens, and that’s the beauty of it.  Things go exactly as he’d planned, and damn it, it’s _exactly_ as good as he thought it’d be.  Granted, Steve always thought he’d live this out in the first person, but there’s still a cathartic kind of joy to seeing these new memories secondhand.

 

Not that it’s entirely secondhand, per say.  Steve has been invited to bed by Peggy and Bucky and by, on one evening of slightly inebriated self-exploration, this timeline’s Steve.  And it’s lovely. But Steve knows that he doesn’t belong in this timeline, not permanently, and that’s never more obvious than when he’s with Bucky.

 

With Peggy, he can almost lapse into the daydream that this is his own life, that he never even left.  But the Bucky from this timeline is unavoidably different. It feels like a betrayal of Steve’s Bucky to be with this alternate Bucky, who’s cavalier and cocky, and realistically doesn’t need two Steve’s kicking around with him.

 

Steve misses the Bucky of his own timeline, and he misses Sam.  He’d made plans to finish watching the Hobbit trilogy with them, before he was assigned to return the infinity stones.   _They aren’t that great_ . Sam kept telling him.   _You guys just see good CGI and totally lose it_.

 

Before he goes, he hands the soul stone over to Peggy.  He’s been storing it in a jelly jar, which feels irreverent.  Nat’s legacy was getting this stupid rock out of space, and the best Steve can do is store it like lunch leftovers?  No, Steve reminds himself, Nat’s legacy was undoing the snap and saving billions of lives. The soul stone _is_ just a leftover, and might as well be treated as such.

 

Peggy shakes the jar.  The little orange stone rattles around.

 

“Don’t ever touch it with your bare hands.” Steve says.  Some of the infinity stones are safe to hold, but some of them aren’t, and some of them have weird terms and conditions, and it’s definitely better to just leave it alone in the jar.

 

“Are people going to try and steal this?” Peggy asks.

 

“Probably not.” Steve says.  “If they do, don’t let them.”  He doesn’t think it’ll occur to anyone to go hunting for the soul stone here.  It’s notoriously hidden deep in space, so who’ll be looking in suburban New York state?  Peggy will be safe enough keeping it as an eclectic mantelpiece decoration.

 

Goodbyes are short and sweet.  Steve and Bucky have never had a deep conversation about their feelings, and they aren’t about to start now.  Bucky has this timeline’s Steve, and Steve has his own Bucky to get back to. That’s all well and good. Kissing Peggy goodbye is a little harder, since that really does mark the end.  Steve has to go back to a timeline without her. But this timeline’s Steve will have his life with her, and that’ll have to be enough.

 

* * *

 

_“And that’s when I figured it was time to actually live a little.” Steve says.  “Pass on the shield. See the world. Maybe retire for a while.”_

 

* * *

 

Old Steve smiles fondly, nodding in concurrence.  Sam and Bucky exchange a look.

 

“That didn’t answer _any_ of my questions.” Sam says.

 

“Why are there two of you?” Bucky asks.

 

“And why is one of you so old?” Sam asks.

 

“Well, hang on, I thought that part was implied.” Steve says.  “I’m retiring.”  He and Old Steve look proudly at each other.

 

“How _the fuck_ does that imply retirement?” Bucky asks.

 

“That’s why I came back to here, instead of to the woods.  Banner doesn’t see me come back, he assumes I stayed in the past.  If everyone assumes I’m still in the past, that leaves my schedule wide open.” Steve says, like it’s obvious.

 

“You could’ve retired without faking your death.” Sam says.  “But, again, _why are there two of you?_ ”

 

“I could’ve, but this way I get to keep the leftover Pym particles.” Steve says.  He holds up a hand. Sure enough, he’s holding the little time travel control.

 

“Never know when those are gonna come in handy.” Bucky says.  If he goes the rest of his life without anyone saying the phrase ‘Pym particles’ ever again, he can die a happy man.

 

“That’s why I’m here.” Old Steve says.  “I figured, I could be lonely in 2090, or come on back and drop off a shield.  In my timeline, Sam never got the shield.”

 

Bucky should’ve been drawing a chart to go along with this story.  Steve can never do anything the easy way, can he? Can’t just retire like a normal guy.  He had to...come back here, at which point he...saved the the time travel control for seventy years, and then...came back here again, but older.  So that’s why there’s two of him. Steve’s time travel looping on himself. If a Bucky from the future ever pops up here just for the hell of it, Bucky’s killing on sight.

 

“Won’t you coming back here again make this timeline diverge?” Sam asks.

 

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t worry about it.” Old Steve says, shrugging.

 

“All that time travel, and you still haven’t learned your lesson about changing the past.” Bucky says.

 

Old Steve grins.  “I don’t know, I’ve learned alright.  Changing the past seems to have gone pretty well so far.”

 

* * *

 

They eventually all settle in for some heavily CGIed hobbit adventuring.  They drag in chairs from the kitchen. Then all four of them sit packed like sardines on the couch, since realistically they're all way past the point of personal space with each other.  It's past midnight by the time the movie actually starts. Bucky falls asleep against Steve’s shoulder because, okay, maybe Sam was telling the truth about the overall mediocrity of this movie.

 

Steve looks across the room to accidentally make eye contact with his future self.  Steve remembers watching himself interact with Peggy and Bucky in the other timeline.  There was a wistfulness to it, the unattainability of everything they had. But the old guy doesn't look wistful, now.  Thoughtful, for sure, but mostly just happy. If the other timeline had been like watching a movie with a rewritten script, this timeline must feel like a faithful adaptation.  Future Steve isn't really here to _change_ , this time.  Although, of course, Sam absolutely deserves a shield.  That was a good call. But future Steve is mainly here to reminisce.  Steve can appreciate that. He's jumped all throughout time, and of all the places he could currently be, decided that this one is the best.

 

* * *

 

In one timeline, 1946, Bucky, Peggy, and Steve prepare for bed.  Their future is open ahead of them, distant and different. They'll root Hydra out of SHIELD.  Peggy will meet the man she might've married in another life, but they'll never exchange more than pleasantries in passing.  Bucky will get a perfectly serviceable new arm. It won't be wired in to his central nervous system.  He'll never feel like he's more weapon than man.  Steve will never know what it would have felt like to lose Peggy, or to be suddenly misplaced in time.

 

In another timeline, 2090, Steve Rogers has mysteriously disappeared.  There's a new Captain America, a third iteration, now. The small remaining circle of Steve's friends hope that wherever Steve is, he's happy.  He is.

 

In this timeline, 2023, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and an older Steve doze off as their movie finishes.  Sam will be Captain America, and he'll have his star-studded shield. Bucky and Steve will return to Wakanda, where, as promised, Okoye has made sure the goat herd is in peak condition.  The older Steve from 2090 will watch and remember. He might go back to his own timeline once more, or he might continue his retirement here. When Steve and Bucky go to see the world, they'll need someone to watch over the goats.


End file.
